#birchprompt

[bxbyghoul]

Worst mistake you've ever made?

"Running away and joining the circus."

[bxbyghoul]

What is the one thing you can't live without?

"There’s nothing I couldn’t live without, if you let something be the reason behind you’re happiness you give it the power to be the reason behind you being unhappiness as well. I can even live without living, death is just the next big adventure."

[bxbyghoul]

Where do you get your fabulous clothes?

"A lot of it was handed down to me from family members, but I actually have a lot of clothes made for me nowadays. I like to think I am one of a kind, and I like for everything about me to reflect that. I also think that about everyone though, everyone is one of a kind and should act, dress, what-have-you, accordingly. Don't you think, ma cher?"

[bxbyghoul]

Where do you see yourself when you're 60?

"Well, exactly where I am now, only I'll be stronger, wiser, and more beautiful. A woman like me only gets better with age, didn't you know?" 

[bxbyghoul]

Have you had sex with a corpse before?

"Oh no, dearie, I’ve kissed many a corpse, but though I find them hauntingly beautiful and hold the utmost reverence for the dead there is no sexual desire there."

[boyinthegarden-blog]

React to this: Love is something humankind has created in order to justify obsession and jealousy.

"Love is a concept the same way beauty is a concept. There are chemical reasons, scientific explanations; facial symmetry and the pheromones you leak after working out. Fear induces the same reaction as lust. If you want to have a good date, take them to a suspension bridge, a haunted house, terrify them. Blue-eyed people are more likely to be attracted to those also with blue eyes. There are facts. There are reasons. Which, in that shitty, pedantic way, makes love, beauty, and attraction a theory in constant practice. But still real… in a didactic way.

There are the other things; the visceral things. The stuff that’s not explained, that logistically, doesn’t make sense. Like why I can feel I know Aida so well, so closely, I think there is fire in my veins, too, or that I can swear somewhere below the earth, Henry and I have tangled roots. Why you adore the statistically ugly one dimple she has, or how you can withstand his scraping laugh and think its sexy. 

Not all love is real. We manufacture it - for obsession, jealousy, and I would say — I think mostly, man, it’s to fill some void inside of us. It’s like, we are the product of two people, and so we come out already believing it takes another person to compete us. But sometimes sex is just sex; the hollowness isn’t supposed to go away; you have to learn to be alone and alive. Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. Stuffing your angst into another person is just — the worst kind of fucked-up.

Not all love is real. Most of the time, it’s convenience. Reassurance. Like you said — justification. Sometimes, it’s valid, and true. Rarely, but it happens. The issue is, we all expect it, somewhere down the line - as an escape, or to ratify our long withstanding personal demons. It’s selfishness.

We should stop using the word love, when we mean something else.

— - Was that the question?”